Page 4 of The Masks We Wear

“Selene!” I panic. “How can you expect us to be rockstars and stay completely sober with zero alcohol?” I demand an answer because there isn’t a probable one.

Selene raises a brow, “I don’t expect you to never drink again. A few drinks is okay, but when you three get any more than that, I usually end up having to bail one of you or all three of you out of jail. I’m not doing it anymore. For the next three months, you are allsober. Got it?”

Ivory leans in a little in her seat, “Just to clarify if I may,” she clears her throat. “By sober, do you mean no drugs either or…”

“No drugs!” Selene slams an angry fist down on the desk.

Aria throws her head back, groaning. “The next three months are going to blow.”

Ivory scoffs. “Apparently they won’t blow because we aren’t allowed to do anylinesof blow!”

I chuckle, unable to contain my sense of humor. That was a good one, I’ll give Ivory that even though our situation is enough to make me want to rip chunks of my hair out. Ivory’s favorite was always cocaine. Mine too. Aria enjoyed it as well, but she preferred more of the party drugs like ecstasy.

Aria slaps my arm to reel my laughter in. I brush it off and quickly cough to stifle the remaining bits of laughter.

“Laugh all you want now, Brody because you won’t be laughing when you go home. Harvey Taylor will be waiting foryou.” Selene threatens.

I roll my eyes. Selene can sign me up for an unwanted bodyguard slash live-in babysitter, but she can’t sign me up to actually obey him. I’ll have Harvey Taylor running away in tears in hours. This guy has absolutely no idea what he signed up for and a wicked grin curves my lips as plans start forming.

Chapter 2

Harvey

I know exactly whatI’m getting into. While Selene Stone was having all of the things I’d need for the next three months moved into the seven-million dollar modern home owned by her out of control client, I took the time to figure out just what I was getting myself into. I blindly accepted the offer Selene gave me and not for the money but simply because I love a challenge. When she called, she claimed to have the most difficult, reckless, and animalistic client and I didn’t believe her at first. I’ve worked with hundreds of unruly clients and I’ve tamed every single one of them and left when my contract was up, leaving desired results, but after watching videos of Brody Drake online…I think I’ll definitely have my hands full, though I know I’ll have her straightened out in no time. I’ll have the little rockstar bending to my will in only a few hours.

I sit in her luxurious kitchen that has modern accents and a stove that looks like it’s never been used. When I opened her refrigerator to get myself some water, I was shocked to find it almost empty as well. The only things inside were a few snacks and half drank bottles of liquor. Does the girl not eat sufficient food? If she bled, would it just be whiskey or actual blood? I shake my head and sigh audibly as I pull out my tablet and start surfing the web.

I’ve already spent about an hour exploring her home, committing it to memory and noting objects or hints of who Brody Drake really is. Her home is a mix of neutral colors, but I noticed she has a lot of Japanese decor in her home. Shemust appreciate the culture because the profile Selene Stone sent me revealed that Brody is completely English. Her patio is decorated in bonsai trees of various shapes and styles and there’s a stone waterfall on her spacious lawn. I even noticed a Buddha statue on top of the waterfall.

While exploring, I hesitated outside her bedroom door, not wanting to invade her personal space, but then I reminded myself that it was my job to invade her space so I shrugged it off, entering her bedroom. The room was large, and I first noticed an electric drum set in the corner, the sticks left on the seat as if Brody had used them only moments before. The floors are a dark hard wood and the bed is made of a similar black frame, decorated with white sheets and a few red accent pillows. Above her bed is an LED sign of two koi fish, one of which was illuminated by white lights and the other in red. Her nightstands are bare save for a pair of black drumsticks and a bonsai tree on each stand. She has a black shoji lamp on each nightstand as well and on the right one, which I assume is the one she uses the most, is a small clear baggie with a white powder in it. I confiscated it immediately and also took the liberty of searching her room for more drugs. I found a few pills in her nightstand but nothing else after that. Connecting to her room was her closet and I peeked inside out of pure curiosity. It was massive and one wall was just dedicated to the costumes and outfits she’s worn on stage. There are labels above each piece, stating where it was worn and what year it was. Brody must have a sense of nostalgia or sentimentality for her costumes which would suggest that she’s not as carefree as she seems.

After walking through her in-home studio, full of different drum sets and recording equipment, I gave up, deciding I’d seen enough. I flushed the drugs down the toilet and also took the liberty of pouringallof her liquor down the drain. I did all ofthat and here I am now. At the counter with my tablet and Brody Drake’s name in the search bar.

The first thing I investigated was her Instagram. The most recent image was from the “Better In Hell” tour that Satan’s Angels just returned from. It’s a picture of Brody seated at her drum set on stage, the fuchsia and cerulean lights highlighting the sharp features of her face and casting her face in colored shadows. She wears little to no clothing, covered in only a black leather lace up top that barely covers her breasts and leaves all of her stomach and torso visible. She wears matching lace up pants and has thick assorted chain necklaces around her neck. Her sunshine-colored hair looks colored because of the lighting but what you notice first upon looking at the image, is Brody with her head tipped back and her tongue darting out of her mouth. With her right hand she pours whiskey straight from the bottle and into her mouth. The caption reads, “What the fuck is up, Oklahoma?! Thanks for having Satan’s Angels. We love you and are so stoked to have wrapped up the Better in Hell tour in one of our favorite states. Until next time, see you in Hell <3 - Sticks”

I continue scrolling down her posts, noting quite a few images of Brody and her bandmates. I think the other two are Aria and White. I click on the tagged people and see Ivory Aslan tagged. I thought it was White but I was close, the colors are the same. I didn’t take the time to research the other two considering my contract is only for Brody Drake. From scrolling on her page, I notice two things right away. The first, is that Brody Drake is obscenely close with her friends. They do everything together. I find an image of a drunk Brody and an equally drunk Ivory on their backs in the middle of the street laughing, most likely taken after leaving a club of some kind. I also find a few images of them partying and a picture of the three of them skinny dipping in a retirement community pool though all their ladyparts are covered by either their hands or photoshopped stars. Aria poses with the “No Trespassing” sign while Ivory flips the camera the bird close by and Brody stands in the pool up to her waist, funneling liquor into her mouth though half of the whiskey has clearly mixed with the pool water.

The second thing I notice is that Brody loves what she does. The girl is obsessed with the drums. There’s a picture of her playing the drums in her underwear along with an image of her playing at the recording studio with a joint between her lips. There’s even a video of her playing and I’ll be honest, she’s pretty good. She obviously knows what she’s doing.

I close Instagram and open the web. I search her name and find links to videos. I click the first one I find without reading the title and find a video taken from inside of a hotel. Whoever holds the phone isn’t holding it very steady and they’re giggling and wheezing. Aria appears, running down the hall, wearing a cropped tank top and her…underwear. She giggles and whisper yells “Come on, they’re coming!” To whom I assume must be either Brody or Ivory. The person holding the phone runs behind Aria, the camera shaking the entire time. Aria then grabs her arm and drags her into an open hotel room. Yelling sounds from somewhere close by and it sounds like two masculine voices are yelling, “Stop!” The girls make no move to close the hotel room door and I watch as Brody Drake sprints down the hall, completely naked, away from two chubby police officers who are trying to catch her. Her hand and arm wrap around her breasts to conceal them, and she uses her other hand to cover her front. She’s hysterically laughing as she disappears down the hallway, the police officers still chasing her.

I exit that video and find another one. In this one, Brody is talking directly to the camera, “Watch this.” She commands as she takes a long drag of a joint and exhales smoke rings. Next, she presses a finger over one nostril and inhales the smokering with the other nostril. I shake my head as I move onto the next. In this video, Brody is pounding on the drums at the most recent tour. I’m about to skip the video but something stops me. I watch her intently. She seems to be in her own little world when she’s hitting the drums. Her wild blond hair flows around her shoulders as she sings the lyrics to the song, throwing her head back. Black streaks of her hair stick to her chest and face from either sweat or liquor of some kind and she looks almost joyful.

I find a short video of Brody making faces at the camera while she twirls drumsticks between her fingers and another video of her and Ivory dancing on a bar in New York. In the video, a drunk man grabs her ankle and tries to pull her towards him, but she kicks him straight in the teeth. Ivory bends down, slamming the man’s head on the bar, a tooth flying out of his mouth. Aria, who was apparently behind the bar the entire time, leaps on top of the bar to join the fray and grabs the man by the hair, turning his face towards the ceiling with his head against the bar. Ivory, Brody, and Aria all lean over him with wicked grins as Aria begins force feeding him vodka.

The last video I watch is of the paparazzi hounding Brody while she walks to her car. She’s on the sidewalk, having just left someplace and she wears loose fitted ripped jeans and a cropped white wife-beater style top that reveals the lower portions of her breasts. Her toned stomach is on display and her black and blond hair is pulled into a messy half-up half-down style bun on the back of her head, loose tendrils framing her face. A pap gets in her face, and she clenches her jaw, doing her best to ignore him. Once she gets in her car, he bangs on her window and she starts the Bugatti, peeling out of her spot and away from the pap. He rushes to his car to follow her, and I frown. The paparazzi are invasive and don’t have respect for anyone. They forget that these celebrities they harass are peopletoo. I don’t blame half of them for being rude to the paps. They suck. That small shred of sympathy for Brody is erased when the pap pulls up behind her at a red light after following her for ten minutes. Brody stops her car in the middle of traffic, puts it in park and kicks her door open, stepping onto the pavement with a crowbar in her hand. She charges over to the pap’s car, raising the crowbar and bashing his windshield. She swings the crowbar back and into the side view mirror that goes flying off and into the street. She takes a step closer to his window and uses the crowbar to make a hole in the window. From there, she punches through the glass and grabs the man by the collar of his t-shirt. She brings his face closer to hers and screams at him, calling him all sorts of names.

Deciding I’ve seen enough, I shut off my tablet and rub the crease that formed between my eyes from the videos and the pictures. What goes through this girl’s mind that she thinks it’s okay to act the way she does? Does anything go through her mind at all? I doubt it does. These musicians are a dime a dozen. They’re filthy rich and instead of using their money for something useful, they spend it on drugs and alcohol, acting stupid in the process and giving people like Selene Stone dozens of messes to clean up.

Brody Drake has another thing coming if she thinks any of that is going to stand from this point on. This little rockstar is getting her shit together and the first thing I’m going to do is ensure that there aren’t any crowbars or weapons of any kind in her vehicles.

Chapter 3

Brody

After the less thansuccessful meeting with Selene, I went back to Ivory’s house with her to avoid my new live-in nanny. Call me a coward, but I wasn’t yet ready to face him. I’m still fuming over the idea of having a babysitter and I’m still planning on having him quit in a few days, but I haven’t yet worked out the plan in my mind.

Ivory offered to let me stay the night at her house, but I declined. I’ll have to meet the nanny sooner or later and I’d prefer to just get it over with so I sucked it up and drove my sleek Lamborghini home. I entered through the garage, anxiousness swimming through me with every step the closer I get to the door. I have no idea what I’m about to walk into. I slowly open the door and step inside, quietly walking through my own home on the lightest of feet. The house is dark as if nobody is here. Maybe he isn’t here? My shoulders drop and the tension leaves my body at the idea. My steps pick up and I decide to down half the bottle of whiskey in the refrigerator before he gets back.

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